Where Is My Mind?
by scottie994
Summary: *REPOSTING* Appears she'd been wrong; there were worse places to be. But then again, perhaps, amongst this insanity-driven crowd of split-personality misfits and irrationally angry idiots, this was where she belonged. UlquiHime; IchiNel. AU, darkfic.


**Disclaimer! I do not own Bleach or any other copyrighted material.**

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Prelude the Insanity: _Welcome to Las Noches, My Dearest 'Hime_

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_Like an apprehensive statue, the auburn-haired youth sits on her bed, silver eyes closed in a pensive manner. She's waiting, she's thinking, and she's anticipating; she's preparing to do what she's longed for months to have the courage to do. And on this particular late-November night, she's finally acquired it._

_It was sudden, as she had been in the kitchen earlier for the sole purpose of getting a glass of water, and out of the blue, once she'd laid eyes on that little black handle, sporting her favored apple-slicing blade, the notion came about, attacking her mind with a passion. And she hadn't had the hesitance a normal human being would've had to comply. No, she'd practically lunged for it, proudly clutching the hilt in her hand and hiding it up her sleeve as she surpassed her dazed mother on her journey back to her bedroom._

_Now, she waits. Brooding in the overture of her violent premiere, slender arms wrapped tightly around her legs and fingers curled firmly around the little black handle, she readies herself. She knows he's coming, it's all too foreseeable. It's a sick nightly ritual, one that she's been accustomed to for quite sometime, and his arrival is as predictable as the ending to a Hollywood rom-com._

_This time, however, things were going to change. She wasn't exactly sure of the results, but she figured anything was better than _this_. And when his footsteps sound from down the hall, the low thuds of his boots on the wooden floor echoing about the short corridor, she's ready; despite the few anxious tears that streamed down her cheeks upon hearing such distinct noise, she holds her own, resolve unmitigated._

_She exhales slowly as her door creaks open, not bothering to open her eyes. A shiver goes down her hunched spine as the door closes behind him with a very audible _click_, teeth drawing blood from her lower lip as he loudly approaches and takes initial position in front of her, causing the mattress at her feet to decline under his weight._

_"'evening 'Hime," he taunts in his sure-fire way, trailing a calloused hand up her bare leg, cupping her knee briefly before he begins to push back her flimsy cloth of concealment; a repugnant grimace twists her features, resentment heightening once more. "Well?" he prods arrogantly, leaning in close enough for his breath to lick her pallid skin, "Come on and give your father a smile."_

_Now's as good a time as ever, she decides._

_"You're not my father," she murmurs, the softness in her voice opposing the boldness of her actions; it was with a swiftness of primary expertise that her right arm shot out, the sharp tip of the knife she'd inconspicuously held in her grasp driving into his left cheek, slicing a long deep wound into the flesh with a vengeance. Her eyes broaden with shock when he cries out in pain not a moment later, as if the situation just hit her like a boomerang, and a spur of both pride and anxiety erupts in her chest. Not that she hadn't believed she could do it, but it was a whole other story when it came to her _actually_ doing it. And she did, she finally fought back. It was gratification she hadn't felt since her brother died and she was left alone, victim to the abusive drunkards they once called loving parents._

_However, it would seem she'd overlooked one thing; something that, being a weak and naive teenager, she hadn't considered._

_"You lil' bitch!" he spat indignantly, expression incredulous and bruised ego palpable. With one hand clapped to his bleeding face, he grabbed a fistful of her hair and diminished all feelings of hope and self-respect his daughter had worked to obtain as he pulled her aggressively from the bed, ignoring her cries as he dragged her out of the room._

_The last thing she saw was the hallway's light reflected on the small, blood-stained blade lying on the floor, and wistfully, she regretted not taking a larger knife._

.

.

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Hitting a bump in the road, the vehicle rattled none too gently, and with a start, the young girl roused. Half-lidded gray eyes regarded the unfamiliar scenery, being that of a middle-of-nowhere desert, and she groggily wiped her face with her hands, the faintest sigh leaving her lips.

"Afternoon, Sunshine!" Heart nearly popping out of her chest in surprise, she immediately snapped her attention to silver-haired man sitting up front, grinning at her in the mirror as he drove; she granted him with a timid leer. "Did ya sleep well?"

She merely nodded, raking auburn locks behind her ears.

"Not much of a talker, are ya?"

"Er.." she cleared her throat, expression rather sheepish, "sorry, I just, um-'

"No need to get all flustered," he interjected, whether he was teasing her or doing her a kindness indiscernible with such tone and visage, "I understand; not like it's summer camp yer headed to." Vexation twisted her features yet again, and she wrung her hands out in her lap. "Don't be nervous," he suggested offhandedly, supposedly paying attention to the road. "Place ain't all that bad once yer get used to it."

She barely stifled a scoff, gaze drifting out the window once more. "You sure _you're_ sane?" she quipped, not unkindly.

A low snicker escaped him, "Rest assured, Ms. Inoue, no one here is sane." His statement did little to faze her, as she just raised a dreary brow, focus unwavering from the sandy plains. And it wasn't long before the black volkswagen shifted gears, abruptly pulling into a long driveway. She glanced anxiously back at the closing steel gates, the loud and creaky _clang_ of the latch echoing the indefinite loss of her freedom.

"Well, here we are."

Apprehensively, she swivelled around in her seat and, once the car came to a complete halt, slowly exited the vehicle. She came to stand just before the stone staircase, hugging herself for self-indulgent warmth against the cool breeze whilst she scrutinized the large building in front of her. Not much to it, she noted, just stone white and enormous, clearly meant to keep those of the insanity driven subculture hidden from the outside world.

However, there was one very obtrusive and rather daunting aspect she couldn't, for the life of her, overlook. That being the unnecessarily grand sign, displaying three big and bold words: _LAS NOCHES ASYLUM._

It incited the deepest of frowns and the most timid of expressions, as well as the urge to run.

She was soon joined by her fox-grinned escort, who held her single suitcase in his hand and had an almost wistful air about him as he tilted his chin towards the castle-esque building before them.

"Welcome to Las Noches," he announced ceremoniously. "Home of the twenty-first century misfits."

She merely smirked at his attempt to humour her, blatantly forcing the curl of her lips, and his close-eyed gaze soon left her's, a slender hand waving for her to follow him as he began ascending the stairs - clear indication that, if she intended to go with her previous notion, he would surely be able to stop her. So, with all plausible hope of escaping cast to oblivion, she yielded to his gesture, emanating dejection.

Appears she'd been wrong; there _were_ worse places to be. And she couldn't help feel a sense of regret as she walked through those large double-doors, the notion she wouldn't see the light of day for a while all too evident as they closed behind her.

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_'Have you ever wanted to just take something back? You know, something you said, something you did?'_

_'All the time.'_

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**A/N:** Well, I hope the intro was interesting. I am revising/reposting the first 4 chapters (which will now be drawn out to 5 chapters) before posting new content. I mainly just want to go more in-depth with the current storyline before continuing, and also, I feel that my writing has improved some since I last wrote for this story, hence all the editing. I've had this story completely outlined from the start; I simply just lost my muse for it. But now it's back! Although, my muse is fickle, and it usually gravitates towards HitsuKarin, but I'm eager to complete this story (in due time, of course), so my updates should be a little more consistent now.

So I hope no one who's followed this hates me too much for the delay (although, considering it's been nearly 5 months since I updated, I have a feeling not many remember what was going on anyways..) and will bear with me as I work to catch up to where I left off - I'll try not to take too long!

**Italic Passage: Rocket speaking to Baby Doll, Sucker Punch**


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